


Twofold

by diemarysues



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Contemplation, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 03:28:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diemarysues/pseuds/diemarysues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Fíli/Kíli/Tauriel, softporn, pegging.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twofold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leinthalexandra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leinthalexandra/gifts).



> This's only the second time I've written F/M/M fic, and the first time I've written for this pairing, and the first time I've done pegging.
> 
> ...also, is it counted as a prompt when you demand the other person to give you one? idk. Hope you like it!
> 
> (edit: the formatting's fucked. not sure if it's an internet problem or an AO3 one. I'll try again later to fix it.)

“I am ever so glad,” said Kíli, relaxing into the pillows, “that you decided to stay.”

“I had two princes absolutely begging for my presence.” Tauriel stole a soft kiss from him, then pulled back with a contemplative expression on her face. “Though perhaps only one will be begging tonight.”

Fíli would have protested, if he’d had the inclination or the breath. He was on his side, face buried in his own pillow, and clutching tightly at the sheets so they bunched in his grip. His left leg was bent at the knee and therefore he was exposed beautifully to the ministrations of his brother’s slender fingers and a generous helping of oil.

Tauriel placed her hand on his belly, against the soft hair and the hard muscle. As always, his skin was almost hot to the touch. It was times like this when she thought she could believe the stories Elves told of the Naugrim; that their bodies were powered by flame-fed forges similar to those they worked at.

Of course, subscribing to that tale would also mean she’d have to hold true the speculation that Dwarves had hearts made of stone. Tauriel knew this wasn’t true. She knew it twofold.

Fíli’s blue eyes were now open and intent on her. She slid her hand up to his throat, earning a sharp intake of breath, and then back down to his navel. Then up again.

He sighed into her ministrations, curling back into that of his brother. Kíli’s arm and wrist visibly flexed as he moved his hand in what Tauriel personally knew were maddeningly slow circling thrusts. A whine rose in Fíli’s throat, and Tauriel leaned over him to catch it in her mouth.

Her hand was now equally as warm as his body. She opened one eye lazily, not moving from Fíli’s lips, and raised it towards Kíli’s face. The dark-haired Dwarf caught her fingers easily; his cheeks hollowed delightfully when he sucked, hard – but Tauriel’s toes only curled when his clever tongue swirled around and between. She slid her fingers from his mouth with a soft, wet sound.

Fíli tore his mouth away when she slipped two of those slick fingers into him, alongside Kíli’s fingers. It was a snug fit. Tauriel wasted no time on teasing; Kíli had taken that task into hand with much enthusiasm. She twisted her fingers this way and that, a frown of concentration on her brow, and was rewarded when she tore a thin cry from the older of the two princes.

Fíli’s blush covered his face from ear to ear – a matching pattern graced Kíli’s countenance – and it was especially dark against the cool white of the pillow he’d again half-buried his face into. His brows were drawn together tightly, eyelashes fanned against his cheeks, mouth open as he gulped in deep breaths and let out the occasional whimper.

Tauriel slid her thighs together. It made her _ache_ whenever she saw Fíli look like this. He was usually calm and composed, always fulfilling his role as Heir. It was why Tauriel and Kíli worked so hard to please him in private. It brought them joy and enjoyment when they drew away Fíli’s control with sighing kisses and lingering touches; when their golden-haired lover forgot himself and shouted their names into the night. (Or morning. Or afternoon. Or at any other time of the day… which had been the basis for the Durin’s Day Debacle, which – er. Perhaps let’s not bring that up.)

Another misconception amongst her people was that, considering their origins, Dwarves had no souls. A spiteful story, yes, and one Tauriel could never get behind. How could Fíli and Kíli have no souls when hers sang so beautifully in their company?

More than that; yes, the Dwarves had not been part of the Creator’s Song. That did not mean they didn’t _belong_ in Arda. They were not at fault for their own existence; that had been their Maker’s doing, and he had been forgiven by Ilúvatar. That did not make Dwarves any less than Elves or Men (or Hobbits).

She had seen Dwarves and Men fight and die alongside her kin. They’d all bled red in the end; all had been flesh and bone. Was it really necessary to hold on to ancient prejudices when they fought against a common enemy?

Apparently thoughts like that were far too radical for many Elves (and many Dwarves). Perhaps that was why her request to stay on instead of returning with the Prince’s party had been granted. (Or perhaps the request had been acquiesced to because Legolas was her friend and liked seeing her happy – and liked that she now owed him a favour.)

She was brought back to the pleasurable present at a yank to her hair. Fíli had twined his fingers in her red locks; beyond his wrecked expression was a shade of impatience.

“I am ready,” he panted, chest heaving. “More than ready.”

Tauriel raised an eyebrow at Kíli; he nodded before going back to hiding kisses in Fíli’s flaxen hair.

Fíli tugged again. “Have me,” he pleaded, shamelessly bucking back onto their fingers. “I want you. Want you both.”

“Both?” A curl of desire set her blood aflame. “Not today, I think.” Before disappointment could flood his features, she put her mouth to one rounded ear. “One after the other, that we can manage.”

She was already wearing her harness – of course she’d brought it along with her, it had been the first thing she’d flung into her bag once she’d known she was heading the retinue to Erebor – and Kíli rolled over so he could fetch the present they’d given her on her first night in the mountain, the present they’d laughingly called her cock.

It was beautifully crafted, even if her eye wasn’t trained for such craft. It looked much the same as the wooden ones she owned, though made of – what she was told was – a silver alloy. They’d used it only once before this, on the same day they’d offered it to her, and Kíli had been _quite_ loud as a result of its coolness.

She fitted it into place, hissing as it drew heat from her skin, and watched Kíli arrange Fíli. Kíli sat with his back resting on the pillows propped against the headboard, while Fíli was draped between his legs, lying with his back to Kíli’s chest. 

When Tauriel pressed forwards and pressed into Fíli, he arched magnificently. Kíli had a sure-fingered grip over his brother’s length, working it with teasing strokes as Tauriel gradually slipped further and further into him. 

Fíli was utterly silent. He’d sunk his teeth into his thin lower lip, flushing it a deeper pink than was usual. One of his hands was in Kíli’s hair, fisting tight, and the other he’d slipped behind Tauriel’s neck. She let him pull her in, let him press their foreheads together, let their noses slide and smush against each other. She laughed when Kíli grumbled about her hair in his mouth, but obligingly pulled it over one shoulder.

“Shall I move?” she whispered, and both brothers nodded.

Now Fíli broke his silence, his voice gone deep and breathy as he heaped praise and sweet nothings onto Tauriel and Kíli. Pleasure lent him inspiration it seemed. As Tauriel continued to relentlessly drive into him, he grew louder and louder – but never incoherent. As he proceeded to beg (as Tauriel had predicted), the lurid detail in which he described what he wanted to be done to him was enough to make Kíli’s flush deepen. It was hopelessly endearing.

Her palms were damp with sweat, as was Fíli’s arse when she slipped her hands under his body and effortlessly lifted him. It took only a few solid thrusts at this new angle for his fingernails to dig into her skin, for him to cry out raggedly, for him to spill over his belly and Kíli’s hand.

It was a gorgeous, _glorious_ sight. Scraggly strands of gold hair clung to Fíli’s forehead, braids loose and messy. His face was almost pained in his bliss; neck long and pale as his head slumped back to rest on Kíli’s shoulders. Tauriel noted the mark she’d left there yesterday and pressed her teeth to it so she could feel Fíli judder.

Almost before Fíli was completely recovered, Kíli was pushing at Tauriel’s shoulder, trying to get her to move. She grumbled at him half-heartedly but pulled out of Fíli – who gave a frayed groan. Both her hands went to the backs of Fíli’s knees, holding his legs apart for Kíli to take her place – and when he moved, his hips bucking up in quick, sharp snaps, the sight and sound had Tauriel freeing one hand so she could touch herself.

Fíli was limp and relaxed as he let his brother take his fill; he’d turned his head to whisper what were doubtlessly filthy endearments into Kíli’s ear. His blue eyes, however, were fixed on Tauriel. They begged her to fall, to give into her mounting desire, and so she did. Her spine arched and her hips bucked and her fingers shook as she continued moving.

Kíli was last to spurt; the whines that’d emerged from his throat growing steadily higher until his mouth was open in a wordless cry. Placing a matching bite on the other side of Fíli’s neck, he rolled his hips in deep and stayed there, blunt nails dragging down Tauriel’s arm. 

It was Fíli who helped her with her harness – her hands were too unsteady to unknot the rope – and she rewarded him with a sweet, lingering kiss. One that was interrupted by Kíli’s impatient tongue; and wasn’t it odd to kiss two of them at once?

Kíli grinned, and Tauriel realised that she’d pulled back to ask that question out loud. 

The dark-haired Dwarf was utterly unrepentant as he thumbed the deep red mark he’d left on Fíli’s skin. He still panted, chest heaving, still buried to the hilt within his brother. “Definitely _very_ glad you stayed.”

**Author's Note:**

> /hides  
> (no I don't know why Tauriel's thinking so deeply while sexing, and yes I think I went too deep - hehe - for it to be considered softporn, _really_ but)


End file.
